On The Last Day of November

Saturday sitting by my steaming cup

Letting my mind drift free

Enjoying the morning freshness

Downing my first of three

It’s good when Saturdays like this

Allow the time to pass by me

No fuss no rush at my own pace

Quiet movements by degree

On icy morning Saturdays

Patterned window art debris

Begins to trickle and evaporate

With aftertaste of my last tea 

Seven Deadly Rhymes

So proud of what they are for sure

Riding high and looking smug

Out in front and overbearing

As stragglers struggle chug and lug

Collecting grand essentials

For a stash down in the crypt

On the lookout for that one more thing

Ensuring fortunes tightly gripped

They hanker for the brightest lights

Crave domination’s grand desire

Bestowed with mighty accolades 

The one and only they admire

That’s not for you it doesn’t suit

Look at us we’ll show you how

Our sense of style and fashion guile

Tell us you lack that sense of wow

Is that the best that you can do

Is that all you aim to give me

A paltry plate of which you make us wait

We need much more you will agree

Can’t you see how much you madden us

Never do what you are told

We’ll return you to that nasty place

For daring ever to be bold

All in all no need for us to rush

We take our time as we demure

Our measured pace will interlace

And let the desperate endure

Everything Must Go

How glad we are to be here

Making sense on where we stand

Forcing permanence on transience

We strain to gain the upper hand

In-spite of all things failing

Meeting entropy’s demand

We can enjoy the little time we have

Before we disappear as planned

Right now there is much energy

Hot to trot along one feels

Until the steam becomes a stream

Wrapped in the solid freeze ideal

I’m In Bits

Billions of cells continually replace and yet?

Me and my collective

Many trillions of cells

Working well at being who I am

Ringing all my selfish bells

Thankfully I do not need

To do a headcount on who’s there

As I take myself for granted

Accepting all within my share

Fifty billion new ones

Inducted every new-born day

Keeps my state of me updated

Instructed on our parts to play

So who I find myself to be

All my benchmarks hold the line

Every seven years I’m all renewed

How do they know they’re mine

Ask Yourself Who Cares?

Study hard to work long hours

You are the stock of modern slaves

Be grateful for the little things

Aim for free will serfdom craves

You are a tiny cog in life’s machine

With rationed back-ups should you fail

Your opinion may be all you have

To help your future world prevail

It is the way of things for those on top

To pay no heed to those below

Not see the need nor hear them plead

Leave them no place else to go

The time for change has passed you by

Those iron pledges rusted tat

Just one more chance to think again

To scrape suppression off your mat

Climate Changing Blues

Weather here is wet right through

Incessantly it falls

We’d like to hang our washing out

We’re running out of smalls

The local folk are looking glum

Puddle tramping to and fro

Heading back to indoor spaces

Because there’s nowhere else to go

Far too much of sad about

Although we know it could be worse

But speaking as we find ourselves

Too much temptation goads reverse

Ineluctable Stuff

STORY LINK

It seems there's too much stuff about

Too much stuff we're stuff amused

Adding stuff we're sure we need

The stuff of which is hardly used

The stuff of dreams builds our desire

We fantasise all kinds of stuff

Finding stuff that speaks of us

We just can't seem to get enough

Our lives are bubbling full of stuff

We have a fondness for collecting

Parasympathetic overload

All kinds of stuff we seek connecting

Gadget stuff along with dressy stuff

Myriads of stuff about

Stuffed with fleeting satisfaction

Too much stuff to do without

Death Throes UK

The bones of British politics

Shame on politicians

Who blithely blather chaff

Circumventing every question

As they wallow in the naff

The game is up for honesty

As the ‘grinning lie’ abounds

Inuendo snide crescendo 

On the doorstep void of grounds

Whatever your persuasion is

One needs to use an open mind

Which politician has validity

We truly need the valid kind

What went wrong with statesmanship

We now have scallywags galore

Prepared to fiddle scam and cheat

Circumnavigate the law

Quantamania

What is this all about? Click on this link.

Reflecting on reality 

And what I really see
observing stuff entangled

Not the same to you or me

The macro tries to be it

But the micro plays a game

Spinning coins with outcomes

Where neither answer is the same

What about my place in time

How many places can there be

Universes multiverses

Nothing here that proves I’m me

Quantum physics: our study suggests objective reality doesn’t exist

What is this all about? Click on this link.

Jiggery-pokery

This is now our only hope

Too much sly duplicity

Those ballot boxing stunts

Sweeping up and pressing flesh

But the truth no one confronts

Expecting all to take it in

The party line of bland repeats

One by one they dish it out

Like bags of sickly sweets

Boring toothless sound bites

Finger crossing guarantees

Where on future ‘past reminders’

They somersault off their trapeze

They say democracy has had its day

Though it died some years ago

When all the money disappeared

Now just a Fools-Gold’s glitter show

Who knows if it’s gone for good

Too many voters dump their votes

As a consequence all common sense

Lies drowned in sunken boats

Collaboration Rhyme

I sometimes write in trash-bin style

A bunch of throwaway lines

Reflections on what comes to mind

Where the good and bad combines

I try to think of new ideas

First-hand Rhymes not done before

Using second-hand words related

The like of which I could write more

I’m sure it would be helpful

If I could write in two-way spree

In forms of unheard music phrases

Written in a throw away key

Me and Thee

I think therefore I am

Hence I’m certain I exist

Pleased at least that I am me

With all my parts that I consist

So as I sit here pondering

At least my here is guaranteed

By those of my imaginings

Who may be real or my mislead

If all others in my mind made up

Moving pictures in my scene

Then something else beyond my scope

Is dictating my machine

Then if when doubting who you are

It must prove that you can think

And prove at least that you exist

Along with me you share a link

Drama King

Niall Pintac meaningful

A playwrite of renown

Pointed plots in character lots

Won him the cap and gown

People came from far and wide

Bought tickets in advance

Avoiding tension in the queue

Not leaving seats to chance

This champion of the written page

A warrior looking back

In a nutshell he was so intense

Niall Pintac with the knack

Inexcusable

Rocks and Hard Places

Greasy palms who have no qualms

In amending certain facts

Shifting blame to keep their name

From falling through the cracks

Beguile with style and legalese 

Show contempt for fair and square

Baffle, muddle and befuddle

Confusing fact with language flair

Change has got the best of them

Hemmed by their own design

Caught between two crushing evils

Professing everything is fine

A Petition Condition

Happily the appellee 

On the verdict did agree

For the outcome now adjusted

Assured release a guarantee

No longer she a detainee

Though not easy to foresee

Uncovered lies in truths disguise

Required much detailed conferee

When finally the referee

Saw through the smears deceitfully

Gave reparation compensation

For freedom’s spree and revelry

In Passing

Peter John Letts
20th January 1951 - 24th September 2019

Will someone switch my light tonight

I’m tired and I must sleep

Today has been a weary walk

This day is done no need to keep

They say rainy weather on its way

I think I’ll tuck in soon

Peace and quiet is my friend tonight

Wrapped up in my cocoon

All my journeys now behind me

Time to close my tired eyes

A holiday looks good right now

That favourite place without goodbyes